


Lycan Unit: Oneshots

by Higgystar



Series: Lycan Universe [2]
Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Lycan universe, M/M, werewolfAU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 17:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2159877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some oneshots from the Lycan Universe since the ideas wouldn't leave me alone and I've been inspired for so many different scenarios I thought I'd share.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It's not that Shane doesn't love Daryl, because he does, he really does, it's just sometimes a little hard to work out why he does the things he does. He's lived with the man since the first day Daryl had been brought into the human way of living and he'd seen him grow from someone practically feral into what could be said to resemble a half decent gentleman. So he can appreciate all the changes that Daryl has taken on and integrated into himself over the time they’ve been together.

Now that they’re actually a couple, or mates as Daryl would say, Shane likes to think he knows the other man pretty damned well. Except there were still some things that were completely baffling to him. Today is one of those days where a calm moment of not doing much of anything has turned into him questioning what the hell Daryl was doing. He’d just been relaxing on the couch reading a book and now here he was.

For whatever reason Daryl had climbed over the back of the couch, arms wrapped about his shoulders, face buried in to Shane’s hair and leaning all of his weight on top of him. There’s a low growl into his hair, Daryl is rubbing over him, scenting him deeply and Shane is far too used to the unmistakeable feel of a tongue behind his ear. Sighing a little he waits for Daryl to decide what he’s doing, but it seems his partner is more than happy where he is, half draped over him, half over the back of the couch and Shane knows if he was in feral form Daryl’s tail would be wagging constantly.

After a few seconds of no movement from Daryl to leave his position Shane continues reading, used to the insanity of his day-to-day life and the strange things that came of living with a werewolf. Turning the page he gets used to the background noise of Daryl’s possessive growl in his ear, not one of danger, but one he’s come to see as almost a purr of contentment. Reaching up he pets Daryl lightly, feeling the way he bares his teeth in a wolf-like grin into his neck and his partner huffs in pleasure.

“New moon tonight?” He asks, still flicking through his book, everything about the scene as normal as could be apart from the full-grown man currently sprawled about his shoulders. Daryl hums in agreement, tongue out and running over Shane’s pulse point, over his ear, into his hair and grooming him lightly. Shane may not enjoy the addition of Daryl slobber hair gel, but he’s learnt not to complain unless he wants Daryl sulking all night.

Daryl’s teeth tug at a lock of hair, he hums, he huffs and he scents over Shane’s head again with his fingers knotting into his partner’s shirt as he clings on. New moons always sent Daryl into a strange mood, there’s not enough of a tug for him to shift, he feels empty and anxious without the moon there and Shane knows he needs to do anything to make himself feel better. Absently he continues petting him, letting Daryl do as he wishes and wondering just when this became classified as normal behaviour in his life. Still he wasn’t complaining, so long as he was happy, Daryl was happy and nothing was getting destroyed he figured he could deal with it. Daryl was worth every crazy moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awesome Werewolf Daryl art by Masa!: http://beitae.tumblr.com/post/93789459620/would-you-be-willing-to-draw-a-werewolf-ish-daryl


	2. Chapter 2

“Daryl, don’t chew the cuff!” Shane reprimands him and Daryl can’t help but huff, not removing his sharp teeth from the fabric and feeling it catch on his fangs. It’s not fair, he doesn’t remember any part of his contract mentioning having to go to court. Surely Shane could do it by himself? He was his handler anyway, it was his job to be the link between him and the rest of the human world, including translating his behaviour, helping him with adjusting to the human world and surely that included speaking for him at court?

Growling a little he tries to tug back and away from Shane, hating the clothing he’s being forced to wear for today and wanting Shane to stop coddling him. The human’s fingers stay fixed on the shirt wrapped around him, keeping him in place and sighing loudly at his lame escape. “Told ya, I don’t wanna go to court.” He huffs, watching as Shane continues unbuttoning the shirt he’s wearing and restarting from the bottom. He’d made his own attempt at buttoning it earlier, trying his best to fit the fiddly little things through the holes and managing with a few. They weren’t necessarily the right holes for each button, but he’d done his best for someone who’d never worn a shirt before.

“And I told you it doesn’t matter if you want to or not, it’s part of our job and you need to tell them what happened at the scene.” Shane explains for probably the fifth time this morning, clearly exasperated at Daryl’s behaviour, but he can’t help himself not wanting to go through with this. He didn’t like new places or people and this whole court thing sounds big and intimidating.

Picking at the fabric he whines a little as Shane closes it up, buttoning it all the way to the top and making him want to yank at the collar. The cuffs are buttoned up at his wrists, confining, like shackles on him and he hates it. “Can do that in my regular clothes, not Rick’s stuff.” He points out.

“A tee shirt and jeans is not appropriate for court. When you’re in court you’re Officer Dixon of the Lycan unit, not Daryl so you’ve got to look professional.” Shane explains, the human taking up Daryl’s badge clip and hooking it into place on Daryl’s belt, letting everyone see exactly who he was.

Daryl scowls, looking down at himself and hating how the fabric clings to him, too nice and clean, with no rips, no comfort, it’s all straight edges and creased seams. “But it’s uncomfortable.” He pouts, lifting the cuff to his lips and mouthing at it again before Shane swats his hand back away. “I don’t like it Shane.” He whines loudly, tilting his head, hoping to get his own way and coax some sympathy.

It doesn’t work and Shane is reaching out to grab the fabric that’s been draped over his shoulders, running it through his fingers lightly. “Well tough luck because you’re wearing it.” Shane swats at him when he tries to arch back and away, moving him back to stand still before him. “Now quit your whining and stand still so I can fix your tie.” Shane takes each side of the fabric slip and begins weaving them over each other, making him snarl when he ends up caught in the loop.

“I ain’t wearin’ that!” He barks out, shoving at Shane and panicking a little when the tie keeps him in place. Daryl feels trapped, he feels caught and he wants to bolt, but Shane reaches out to grab his wrist, keeping him in place and not letting him scrabble beneath his sheets to hide away. “It’s too tight, it’s choking me Shane!” He snaps, teeth bared, growling as he tries to scratch to get away. His nails aren’t sharp enough, they do barely anything and Shane has no trouble keeping him caught as the tie catches around him. “Get it off I can’t breathe!”

“Daryl stop squirming you can breathe just fine!” Shane calls to him, even as Daryl squirms and tries to writhe away from his grip. Gentle fingers move to run over his chest through the shirt, calming, soothing and he hates how easily it helps to get his attention back on Shane. “It’s okay, it ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Still he squirms a little, glaring at the tie, daring it to try and choke him again. “I ain’t a pet.” He growls, batting at the end of it, catching the fabric in his mouth and tugging on it with his teeth. “I don’t need no collar, don’t want no collar.” Daryl mumbles around the tie, huffing when Shane gently tugs it free and begins tying it once again.

“It’s not a collar it’s a tie.” Shane keeps his voice low, soothing as he speaks and explains, trying to ease his panic and keep him still as he ties the tie. “It’s just a tie look. One measly little bit of fabric to make you look presentable. That’s all. Look I’m wearing one and I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt, I can breathe easy and it’s only for a little while.” With a smirk Shane pulls the fabric into a weak knot, moving it up and closer to Daryl’s neck even as he whines a little at it all. “Come on Daryl, thought you were meant to be brave?”

“I’m brave!” He snaps, not liking the accusation but feeling a quiver of worry run through him as the tie gets tighter. “Just don’t like things round my neck. I’m not a dog, I ain’t wearin’ no collar or leash.” Daryl mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut when Shane presses the knot into its final resting place beneath his chin, making him let out a loud huff and reach up to scratch at it.

“No one said you were a dog.” Shane hushes him, brushing aside his hands and smoothing out the creases in the shirt. “We know you’re not a dog, you just have to let me put on this tie, be brave and wear it for court. Then when we’re done you can take it off, I promise.”

Daryl huffs, squirming in the shirt, wanting to mouth at the cuffs, scratch at the collar and soon enough he’s biting at the end of the tie again, keeping the damned thing under his control even as it’s wrapped around his neck. It helps keep the panic aside, with his teeth over the fabric he knows he can kill it if need be and even if it’s just clothing, it makes him feel better. “Still don’t like it.” He mumbles, trying to shake the feeling of anxiety from him, feeling the tight shirt across his chest and growling at it all.

Shane sighs, but allows the behaviour, over time he’s learnt to pick his battles and Daryl wearing a tie with bitemarks was better than him not wearing a tie at all. “I’ll get you a clip on for next time bud, for now this’ll have to do.” He soothes him easily, the time working together letting him know what works to get him complying. Daryl huffs, growls and chews on the tie, glaring at the clock counting down the time until they’re due at court to give their statements. “Now one last thing and you’re ready.”

This time Daryl shrugs a little, folding his arms across his chest and chewing on the end of the tie as Shane moves behind him, not wanting to admit that though the tie bugs the hell out of him, having Shane brush his hair into something half decent actually feels kind of nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More awesome werewolf Daryl art by Masa: http://beitae.tumblr.com/post/94539544700/its-not-that-shane-doesnt-love-daryl-because-he


	3. Chapter 3

Growling to himself Daryl gnaws on the pencil between his teeth, crunching down on the wood and feeling it dent a little beneath his fangs. He’s trying really hard this time, he really is. The TV’s turned off, the moon isn’t anywhere near full so his blood isn’t rushing around his veins and making him want to howl, so he’s really focussing this time. This is something he intends to get done and get done properly, he’s not going to give in so easily just because he’s finding things a little difficult.

He’s not stupid. He’s really not, at least not by werewolf standards. Daryl knew he could hunt, he could track, he could take on prey bigger than himself, he could defend pack and defend his territory no problem. When it came to working out problems he could come up with a solutions, Shane always said he was a good problem solver and he knew when it came to the tests down at the station he aced all of them. Thing is, humans didn’t see smarts that way.

They saw it as being good in school, knowing how to answer questions and pass tests. Human pups went to school so young and they never seemed to leave the place. He remembers first being told about Carl going to school and be stunned when he went the next day and the next and the next. What could the pup possibly need to learn that his parents couldn’t teach him? It made no sense to him at all and then Shane said Carl was going to go every year until he was almost fully grown? It made him even more glad that he wasn’t human.

But the worst part of it all was this part. Humans liked to read and write and it seems they thought it the most basic form of intelligence. Of course he could read and write, even wolves learnt that much to get by with their papers and anything official, but that was where his knowledge stopped; at the basics. He could read to a certain level, the station had tested him when he’d first arrived and said he’d had the reading age of a six year old which apparently wasn’t a good thing and they’d wanted him to get better. He didn’t know why, reading wasn’t going to help him bite criminals and find drugs.

But he’s been trying and he thinks he’s gotten better, Shane is always telling him he’s doing well with it but reading wasn’t the problem right now. It was the writing. Writing was stupid.

Before everything he’d been able to write his name and sign it; that was all he’d really needed at the time and that had been enough. But now he had to write reports so he’d been practicing, sitting with books he could read and copying the words, sticking to pencil since pens didn’t taste so good when he bit through them in frustration. Over time he’s gotten better, sure it wasn’t the neatest, sometimes the letters went the wrong way and didn’t sit on the line, but down at the station they could read it and that was good enough.

Now here he was, sitting at the table and chewing on his pencil, crumpled paper around him as he tries to work out exactly how to get what he wants done. Usually he’d ask Shane, but he wanted to do this by himself, and though he always likes getting help from the other man he feels that right now he needs to struggle through. Grinding his teeth he snarls as the pencil snaps, each half dropping to the table and leaving him huffing out splinters before they get caught on his tongue.

“Daryl, are you sure you don’t want help? You know I don’t mind.” Shane calls over from the couch again, looking up from his own reports and watching him. Daryl growls a little, shaking his head and slumping over the paper he’s been scrawling on. Right now he feels lost, stupid and unable to do what he wants just because he was a werewolf and hadn’t had a real human education. He doesn’t answer and instead shrinks down further in his seat to gnaw on the edge of the table. “Aw no come on Daryl. That’s it I’m helping, if it’s stressing you out enough to get you chewing on the furniture then you need help.”

Huffing a little he sprawls over the tabletop, gathering the papers in his arms and crushing them to his chest, hiding them away as Shane comes over to stand behind him. Whining a little he shakes his head, not wanting to have to explain himself over this. “No. ‘s mine. I’m doin’ it.” He growls and Shane isn’t worried at all.

Shane knows him, he knows when he means a real growl and when he’s just letting out the frustration in noise. So when the human leans over behind him and wraps his arms around his chest he stops the noise, whining instead a little and leaning back into Shane’s familiar scent. “I know it’s yours bud, but I just want to help and you’re getting stressed out over it.” Fingers stroke over his tummy, light and rubbing a little under his ribs, making him feel more comfortable and relaxed.

They remain that way for a while, Shane rubbing over him and talking to him in a hushed tone, knowing how to calm him down and get him back to a more relaxed mindset that wouldn’t be the end of so many pencils. It helps and soon enough he’s not gripping the papers so tightly, leaning back into Shane and licking at his neck lightly in thanks. His human kisses his hair, continuing to stroke his tummy and make him sigh in pleasure and he knows if he were in feral form his tail would be wagging.

“Now, what are we trying to write today?” Shane asks him and Daryl feels himself blushing lightly as he gives up, shoving the crumpled papers into Shane’s arms and leaning to slump over the tabletop again as his human flicks through them.

“’s for you.” He grumbles, burying his face in his arms and trying to hide away from the embarrassment of it all. It had been a stupid idea in the first place, he was going to have to nip at Rick the next time he saw him. “Rick said human mat-“ growling he cuts himself off and corrects himself, “couples write love letters to say how they feel and stuff. But I don’t know how to write a lot of the big words I want to use and it’s coming out all stupid and dumb.” He growls, listening to the paper get smoothed out behind him as Shane reads through his untidy scrawl.

He’s embarrassed, the blush on his cheeks is bright red and he hates that he can feel Shane watching him when he’s finished the short note of scribbled words. “Daryl…” Shane starts and he growls, not wanting to hear him laugh, wanting to bolt and hide underneath their bed until Shane forgot all about the stupid love letter Rick had convinced him to write. “Daryl, this isn’t stupid, it’s wonderful and very sweet of you but you don’t have to use big words and get yourself all stressed out to show me you love me.” He snarls again, but doesn’t pull away when Shane presses against his back again, reaching up to pet him lightly and scratch behind his ears.

“’s stupid. I’m stupid.” He grunts, but leans into the petting, letting Shane move close enough to wraps his arms about him in a hug.

“No you’re not.” Shane presses a kiss to the back of his neck, nuzzling at his cheek and even giving a small lick much like Daryl would if they were reversed. “I don’t care that you don’t use big words or can’t write them down for me, I hear every single bit of love you have for me when you call me your mate.” Shane kisses his cheek, and Daryl can’t help the whine he lets out at the feeling of being loved fully. “That little word means more than anything you could ever write down and I love having you as my mate.”

Sitting up a little he knows he’s still flushed, and he turns around to nuzzle at Shane’s cheek lightly, moving to lick at his neck and press a kiss to his pulse point. “My mate.” He mutters, burying himself closer into that familiar scent and whining a little at the love he feels for this human.

“Your mate.” Shane agrees, stroking over his back, letting him lick at his neck and holding him tightly. Daryl may not be the smartest werewolf in the world and he’s sure compared to most humans he’s pretty stupid, but maybe that really didn’t matter at all. Not when Shane seemed to like him just the way he was, whether he could write down what he felt or not. So long as he kept calling him his mate he’s sure Shane would understand how he felt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more amazing art, this time from duodeathscythe: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2154321


	4. Chapter 4

It’s intended as a joke gift.

Shane hadn’t even been thinking of getting Daryl a gift at all but he’d been walking through town when he’d seen it. He’s not sure what gave him the urge to go and buy one, but he’d headed into the small store, picking up one of the stuffed animals from the shelf and paying the small amount for it. It was nothing special, really it wasn’t well made, it wasn’t pretty or anything, but it was most definitely a squirrel and he knew how much Daryl loved squirrels. So he’d bought it, just a joke present, something stupid to make Daryl laugh for a minute, call him a jackass and get tossed aside and forgotten.

That had been the plan anyway; but as usual Daryl had somehow managed to defy his expectations. Shane had gotten his laugh, he’d chuckled along as Daryl had called him a jerk and grinned over the small thing, running his fingers over the furry toy and Shane had thought that was the end of it. Except the squirrel hadn’t gotten cast aside as he’d thought it would.

Instead it took up pride of place on Daryl’s bed at first. A soft and furry mass of fabric with a fuzzy grey tail that sat on Daryl’s bed, nothing special, nothing much at all, but it was there. Shane ignored it, simply thought it funny that Daryl had kept the damned thing and wondered how long it would be until the joke got too old. Their lives continued as usual, they went to work, he and Daryl went about their lives and the squirrel remained in place on Daryl’s bed.

It’s not until the next full moon that he sees it get moved about and it’s not a great shock to see Daryl padding about the place in feral form with his teeth digging in to the squirrel’s sides. At first he ignores it, better to have Daryl teething on a fake squirrel than carting another dead one about the place and smearing blood over everything he trotted past. When feral he tended to enjoy gripping his teeth around something or other and it was better that Daryl had his own prey to focus on than Shane’s boots or books to gnaw on. So Shane watches as the squirrel gets taken around the apartment with Daryl, chewed on, chomped on, licked at and cleaned to within an inch of its life until the moon was waning.

Shane expects the squirrel to be placed back on Daryl’s bed until the next moon, left until he needed prey to kill and his fangs buried in something soft to make himself feel better. However, he comes home from an unscheduled late shift and finds an anxious Daryl on the couch with his teeth buried in the fur of the squirrel. The only thing is, he’s in human form with his fingers clinging to the stuffed toy’s tail and keeping it close. He knew Daryl liked routine, he knew the werewolf didn’t like being left alone for too long and he was meant to have been home earlier so it was fair enough that Daryl had gotten himself all worked up over it. Still, he’d never thought the squirrel would be with him.

He’d apologised of course and pointed out the squirrel with a question. The thing is Daryl didn’t get embarrassed easily. The werewolf knew he was different to humans and was never ashamed of acting on instinct, doing as he wanted without question and uncaring of how he looked to others. So where Shane was seeing a fully-grown adult clinging to a stuffed toy, Daryl merely saw himself as coping with his anxieties in a non-destructive manner. Honestly Shane had learnt to pick his battles when living with a werewolf and if Daryl wasn’t hurting himself, anybody else or causing property damage then Shane was happy to let it be.

So the squirrel became a part of their lives with him barely even noticing how strange it was.

“Stryker.” Daryl had hummed to him one night, when there was a new moon and he was feeling more uneasy than usual. Their evening had turned into the pair of them curled together on the floor, sheets draped over the upturned couch and furniture into a makeshift den cum fort. Daryl had created the hideaway earlier in the day and Shane hadn’t had the heart to put things back when he’d wanted to watch the game. So he’d simply taken up residence on the floor, letting Daryl half climb on top of him whilst clinging to the squirrel and running his fingers through his hair to keep him grounded.

“What’s that bud?” He’d asked, leaning back on a mix of cushions and blankets.

Daryl had growled a little, gnawing on the toy in his grasp, blunt human teeth and the small fanged incisors of a wolf ripping at the fabric of the squirrel’s ears. “It’s his name.” Daryl had mumbled, curling into him tighter, gripping the squirrel tighter before moving to lick at it. Shane had watched as he’d cleaned the damned thing, reminding him so much of dogs cleaning newborn puppies with the way he’d gently manipulated the toy until he’d swiped over every inch with his tongue.

He hadn’t asked why the squirrel had suddenly gained a name, or why it had been in need of a Daryl tongue bath, he’d just nodded and let Daryl do what was needed to make himself feel better. If it was instinct then he couldn’t ask Daryl to fight it and heck it wasn’t as if the toy was hurting anyone.

Over time it had gotten chewed up until it had lost one of its button eyes, (most likely swallowed by Daryl) it’s fur was bedraggled, its tail had a bald spot and Shane knew Daryl had taken the time to sew up the holes made by his chewing. It was mauled to death and realistically Shane knew it would be better to throw the damned thing out, but he couldn’t do that to Daryl.

Not when it was the one thing that seemed to help when he was feeling nervous. Somehow Stryker the squirrel had become a vital part of what he called his ‘Daryl kit’. A few items kept in his police cruiser or carted about that Daryl might need at any point. Most of it was the usual things he might need in feral form, bowls and a muzzle for example, but some were more personal. Pencils since Daryl didn’t like writing in pen, a clip on tie in case they had to go to court on short notice, one of Shane’s old handkerchiefs in case Daryl got an awful scent stuck in his nose and needed something different to sniff at. And of course after a while, Stryker the squirrel joined the pack.

It wasn’t much, but it helped Daryl when he was having a bad day. If the moon was new, or he was irritated with something, or anxious then having the toy squirrel helped keep him calm. No matter what form he was in. Sure some people stared, maybe there were a few weird looks when Daryl was sitting at his desk and chewing on Stryker’s ears, but Shane had learnt not to care about other’s opinions. Besides they all seemed to think Daryl was adorable when in feral form and carting the thing about like it was his baby.

Thinking back on it maybe, just maybe the squirrel hadn’t been such a bad idea after all, especially not when having it made Daryl feel safer than ever. It may have been a joke at first and maybe at times it was still kind of funny, but it made their lives easier and Daryl loved it. So Stryker the squirrel was allowed to stay, especially when it made getting Daryl to go to his appointments with Hershel take minutes compared to the few hours it had taken before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More amazing art from Masa! : http://beitae.tumblr.com/post/95372351455/stryker-the-squirrel


	5. Chapter 5

It’s been the longest week of Daryl’s life.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Rick and the Grimes family. They’re great and even baby Judith is cute as a button and a well behaved pup, but they’re not Shane. They’re not Shane and their house wasn’t home and this really has been the longest week of his life. He appreciates them letting him stay, because without Shane at home their apartment seemed far too big and empty and besides, Shane wanted the furniture not to get chewed on whilst he was gone.

So he’d stayed with the Grimes family, he’d been well behaved, he’d helped with the kids when he could and he hadn’t even chewed on the couch…much. But as nice as they all were and as much as Carl would pet him and Rick would let him carry about Stryker no matter what form he was in, they just weren’t the same. Shane was something more than them and though he adored his adopted packmates, they just weren’t his mate.

Shane was his everything. The human was his soulmate, his other half, someone he had bonded with in so many ways that being apart from him had felt almost physically painful. Still he knew Shane had to go to these stupid conferences, people were getting more and more interested in having a Lycan unit of their own and though they’re not willing to have an actual werewolf talk to them yet, they wanted Shane. He didn’t want to go on a plane at all, but he didn’t want Shane going on one either, especially not one that took him so far away from him!

But now the week was over, he’d been counting down the moons until finally, finally Rick had picked up the car keys and Daryl had already been out the door. The drive to the airport had taken forever, Daryl didn’t understand why Rick couldn’t just put on the sirens and make people move out the way, but apparently Shane coming home wasn’t classified as an emergency. Stupid rules. Still they were here, they were waiting at the gate, Shane’s plane had arrived and Rick had promised him that Shane would be here soon.

Still he can’t stop fidgeting, pacing from side to side, chewing on his thumbnail since Stryker had to stay in the car, worrying about Shane getting lost in the big building, or what if he’d missed his flight or something had happened and he hadn’t been able to call? Every time a new batch of humans come through the doors he’s on edge, checking them all and lunging forward to smell them and find out if any of them smelt of Shane. After the third time someone yells at him Rick starts hanging on to the back of his shirt to keep him in place beside him.

It’s annoying, he’s frustrated and excited, a mix of nerves in his belly as he awaits Shane’s arrival and he’s about ready to shift and bolt through the doors himself to scent track Shane down when finally, finally Rick lets go of his shirt and he knows it’s time. There’s people, humans bustling through the doors, some greeting others, there’s a mix of the young and the old, some people crying and laughing and of course he’s the last idiot off the fucking plane.

Even though he’s in human form, Daryl can’t stop from barking out in pleasure, darting forwards through the crowd in a second and not caring about the looks he gets. Bolting over he doesn’t slow down, uncaring of the bruises he knows Shane will have from his rough play and pouncing into the man’s arms.

It’s a testament to how well Shane knows him that his human doesn’t drop him at all, instead Shane catches him easily, hooking his arms beneath him and keeping him upright as Daryl wraps his arms and legs around his mate. Shane does make a sound of discomfort, but Daryl’s too busy kissing and licking over his mouth to hear it properly, whining loudly in the back of his throat, telling Shane how much he missed him in more than words.

“I know, I know.” Shane manages to mutter, used to dodging from his tongue when he got overexcited and carefully easing him back to stand on the floor. It’s not enough, he doesn’t ever want to be apart from Shane again, so he’s pressing against him. Shoving against his human’s chest and nipping at his neck, clinging to him tightly and uncaring of the humans watching as he whines out his pleasure. “I missed you too puppy.”

Not as much as he’d missed Shane. Fingers comb through his hair as more run over his back, trying to calm him down, but he knows Shane can feel his heart beat thudding desperately inside of him. “You’re home!” He practically howls. His human is home, his mate is back and he’d missed him so much! Barking again he shoves against him, not caring when Shane trips over his own luggage and ends up sitting on the floor. Climbing into his mate’s lap it’s a lot easier to kiss and lick at him now he’s down, it means Daryl can whine into his mouth and move to scent all over him easily without having to stand on tiptoes.

He can smell when Rick comes over to them, his packmate moving to help Shane lift him off and away for a moment, making him growl a little in annoyance when he wants to make sure that Shane knew who’s he was. Rick helps Shane to his feet, the two of them hug as they always do and Daryl takes the moment to growl at the people staring at them, baring his fangs for a second before darting to get into Shane’s arms again. “Rick, Shane’s home!” He tells his packmate, already nuzzling beneath his mate’s chin and licking at the stubble there.

“I know bud.” Rick knows him so well that he doesn’t even scold him for his behaviour, instead he just lets it happen and watches as Shane rubs down his sides, trying to calm him down a little. “And I know you’re excited, but don’t you want to take him back to your territory?”

Of course he does! But Shane still smells of hotels and other people and not of him and home and mate. Huffing a little he shrugs, more than happy to cling on to Shane’s shirt and never let go again. Still, home meant privacy and humans had a thing for mating in private. Nodding a little he grabs Shane’s hand, tugging for him to hurry up and follow him. “Let’s go. Wanna go now.”

Shane chuckles, yanking him back to run his fingers through his hair once more, holding him steady enough that they can kiss properly, the human way. It’s slow and everything he’s been missing, all Shane and mate and so much more. Whining happily he lets Shane rub down his sides, patting over his ribs and helping him to calm down from his excitement. “Alright puppy, I’m not going anywhere.” Shane soothes him, rubbing behind his ears for a moment before moving to grab his abandoned luggage. Daryl passes one to Rick so Shane’s got a free hand for him to grab.

He couldn’t care less about Shane’s luggage, so long as his mate had him he didn’t need anything else. As soon as they’re in the car he’s in Shane’s lap, uncaring of road rules and growling low in his throat when Rick suggests he get in the back. Shane doesn’t even protest, instead his mate wraps his arms around him and lets him bury himself in his chest. Rick rolls his eyes but stops arguing, instead he starts the car and begins driving them properly home. The two humans talk over the top of him, talking about boring things like work and conferences.

Huffing a little he doesn’t want to talk about boring things like that, but it seems his mate needs some friend time with Rick for a moment and besides, the rest of the day was his, so maybe Rick could have the drive home. Shane rubs down his back again, running his fingers under the bottom of his shirt and scratching at the base of his spine, making his leg twitch a little at the feeling. His mate knows how to soothe him back to calm, so soon enough he’s happily curled in Shane’s lap, chewing on Stryker when he’s passed to him and eagerly awaiting getting to spend the rest of the day showing Shane how much he’d missed him. 


	6. Chapter 6

Shane loves his puppy but living with a werewolf is something that took a lot of getting used to. At first it had been teaching Daryl how to live like a human, getting him used to machines, learning how to act accordingly and behave in a more socially acceptable manner. Daryl had taken his time and there were still some parts that they were working on, but they’d made a lot of progress and somehow from those first awkward days to now, they’d become mates.

But there were some times that things were difficult.

Full moons were always a more manic day for them and Shane was always grateful when they fell on a weekend. It gave them the time to work around it, and Daryl trying to go to work when high on the moon was something the entire office found difficult to deal with. Last time it had involved five officers of the law chasing a fully grown werewolf around the office and trying to get the full ring of cell keys from his mouth before he managed to bury them somewhere. It had taken a lot of pleading, begging, threatening Stryker and the buying of a fresh steak to get them back.

Still after the chaos of the full moon there’s always a wonderful lull in Daryl’s behaviour. It’s like the come down after a high and his moon drunk werewolf is soon the most placid and calm person in the world. Shane loves these days and it makes all the insanity of it worth it, no matter how chaotic it’s all been living with Daryl. Now on the morning after the full moon of the night before, he got to spend time with one of his most favourite pieces of Daryl Dixon.

Lying in bed his puppy is still exhausted, a whole night of howling and running about like a wolf possessed left him tired but Shane doesn’t mind. It means he can sit on his side of the bed and just watch his perfect mate curl into the sheets. Of course life doesn’t stop for a tired wolf and now Shane got to enjoy the task of trying to coax a half asleep Daryl into getting ready to go to Rick’s to babysit the kids for them.

“Daryl?” He calls gently, reaching out to stroke through his mate’s hair. “Sweetheart it’s time to wake up.” Shane loves this, getting to be trusted enough to wake a sleeping wolf, and he knows he’s one of the few people in the world that gets to be so close to someone who was technically so dangerous. If he wanted to Daryl could break his arm with a snap of his jaws if he was in feral form, and even in human form he could easily tear out his throat. Instead his mate shifts in his sleep, Shane watches as he sniffs the air, taking note of who he was and relaxing immediately to roll onto his back.

Running his fingers down to Daryl’s chest he rubs over his ribs, stroking over his tummy and feeling the way he arches a little into it all. Daryl yawns, reaching his arms up in a lazy stretch and growling a little. “Come on baby, you need to get up.” He pats his sides, moving to rub his thumb over Daryl’s hip before running a finger over the waistband of his underwear. “I know you’re tired, but you can sleep in the car and over at Rick’s house. Right now you’ve got to get up though puppy.”

He gets a growl in reply when he moves from the bed to open the curtains, not giving Daryl a chance to hide away from the bright morning sunlight. Shane hums to himself as he moves about their bedroom, hunting out clothing for Daryl and moving to yank the sheets off of him when he doesn’t move. “Come on.” He heads back over to the bed, sighing a little when he finds that Daryl hasn’t moved an inch except to start chewing on the pillowcase. “You’re hopeless.” Daryl growls in reply.

Still, Shane’s not too angry. He’s used to mornings like this after the full moon and usually they were able to have the day off and just lounge about the house. But today they had a job to do and he wasn’t leaving Daryl home alone to destroy furniture when he was out. “Alright we’ll do it the hard way.” Despite the words there’s a smile on his face as he moves to lift Daryl into a sitting position, letting his puppy slump against him sleepily. Humming to himself he’s used to this behaviour, the same he’d get from a stroppy child, but he knew Daryl wasn’t really angry, just tired.

It’s not the easiest task in the world, but he manages to struggle Daryl into a vest and some sweat pants somehow. His puppy whines a little, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking up at him with pleading eyes, clearly not wanting to go anywhere right now. “I know baby.” Leaning down he presses a kiss to Daryl’s nose, moving to tug one of his own hoodies over his mate’s head, helping him wriggle his arms into place. “But I’ll look after you and I’ll explain to the kids that you had a busy night last night.”

The clothing is too big, the sleeves hang over Daryl’s hands and it’s not long before his puppy is chewing on them, adding to the bites marks and tears already there. He growls a little, but it’s a noise of frustration and annoyance, not anger and Shane gently guides him to the bathroom. When his mate is done brushing his teeth he returns, this time with the hood up over his head but still chewing on the sleeve. Shane lets him hide himself away, moving to snatch up the one thing he knows Daryl needs today from the bed.

“Come on now it’s not going to be that bad. You love getting to play with Carl and baby Judith, and they always have treats for you.” Shane coos, leading Daryl through to shove on his sneakers and grab the car keys. His mate grumbles with a shrug and Shane takes the moment to tug the sleeve from his mouth. Taking the stuffed squirrel he begins pressing its fuzzy little face against Daryl’s cheeks, his nose, his lips and grinning when he gets a small huff in reply. He knows Daryl’s feeling a little better, but every little helps.

“Please Daryl.” He puts on a squeaky voice, making Stryker bob in his grip and tap at Daryl’s nose. “Don’t be a grumpy puppy, I want to go play too!” He makes Stryker say, wriggling the squirrel teasingly in front of his mate’s face and smiling when Daryl finally gives in and fastens his mouth around the stuffed toy with a little grin of fangs.

Leaning forward he presses a kiss to his huffy puppy’s nose, letting him mouth at his stuffed toy to keep himself happy before leading Daryl out to the car. Sure there were moments when living with a werewolf was difficult, but getting to look after a half asleep dopey puppy wasn’t one of them.


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl knows the stories that humans are told of werewolves. Before with his old pack he was proud to be a threat, to be seen as a monster that haunted the night and crept through the shadows with blood stained paws and a taste for killing. He was a wolf and a damned proud one, even if his life had moved him in a different direction to the one he’d thought, he was still proud of who he was. The thing was, now he lived with humans he’d acclimatised to living with them but sometimes it took a bit more for them to be comfortable with him.

Rick and Shane are used to him by now, they know his little habits and what parts of his old life he can’t give up and how he is only a real threat when he wants to be. Carl is too young to know the history of werewolves, the only tales he knows are from horror stories and a few pages in storybooks, so when the kid gets to know him all his assumptions are proved wrong and Carl is happy to accept him easily. The only person who takes a while to let him in is Lori.

It’s not that she’s rude or mean to him, but he knows that she has been told things about his species and immediately assumes he is like them. It’s hard to change her views when she’s been so sure of them all her life, her whole family were the same and he knows it took Rick a lot of convincing to calm her down about him joining the force. She’s just has her opinions and views, she assumes and worries and even before she’s met him he knows she is not going to like him.

But though it takes time and a lot of him curbing his more feral behaviour, Lori does warm up to him eventually and before long they’re pack. Still he is careful around her, tending to remain in human form more often than not when he’s in her territory and trying to remember every little lesson that Shane has taught him about being human. However, there are days when he simply can’t be in his human skin and he has to be at their home for one reason or another.

Today is one of those days and he can smell Lori’s discomfort the second he pads into their home with Shane beside him. He can’t blame her, but he does his best to ease her fears, trying not to be so loud and making sure to brush against her side and lick at her fingers when he can see the tension in her body. Rick tries to calm her also, and Daryl hates that he’s the reason for the tension in her shoulders, the way she holds herself a little hunched and clearly watches where he is at all times.

Shane rubs behind his ears when he can tell he’s upset by it all, especially after the way Lori used to be around him. It’s not his fault, it’s not her fault, it’s all instinct and when there’s a sharp baby cry from the other room he knows that all Lori is reacting to is her natural fear for her newborn. When Lori goes to get the baby he settles himself beneath Shane’s legs besides the couch, staying down, staying low and making sure not to seem threatening at all when Lori brings in baby Judith.

She’s a few months old now, but still so small and fragile. Daryl can understand Lori’s worry, really he can, especially when he knew he could crush an adult human’s skull between his jaws if the occasion called for it. It was only very obvious what he could do to a baby if he wished to. Of course he would never hurt Judith, but he was still a fully grown werewolf in feral form and she was a tiny human pup that didn’t know not to scratch herself with her own nails. Still he stays down, places his head on the floor and doesn’t make any move to go near the pup even if he was still curious.

Judith smelt of newborn freshness and the Grimes family, she wasn’t like a wolf pup at all and he’d never seen a real human pup before. It was taking her a long time to grow, but she was getting there and he still finds himself so proud of the pack’s newest member. He watches as Lori bounces the baby a little on her hip before placing her down on the floor upon a blanket. Judith babbles, rolling onto her stomach and staggering a few inches in a crawl. She’s cute enough, drooling all over herself as Carl plays with her and Daryl enjoys the time just watching the two of the youngest pack members playing. They’re not very good at pouncing, but Judith seems to be willing to bite at anything and everything and he’s proud of that fact, she’ll be a good hunter when she’s older.

Above them the humans talk about everything and nothing between them, and he’s happy to remain in place on the floor beneath Shane until Carl doesn’t hold the pup’s interest anymore. He freezes when she begins crawling towards him, Carl laughing as she stumbles a little and mainly shuffles over on her belly until she’s within a foot of his face. Daryl doesn’t want to breaks the silent rules about the baby, but he is curious about her and the pup did come to him. Still he shuffles back a little, whining up at Shane for some back up that he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

A hand reaches down to stroke behind his ears, Shane hushes him and Daryl’s ears prick up when Lori speaks to him. “It’s alright Daryl. You can play with her.” She still sounds a little uneasy but he can see when Rick holds her a little tighter to reassure her that he won’t do anything. Of course he’d never hurt the pup, she was in his pack and it was his duty to protect her.

The pup babbles to him, drool dribbling down her chin. She braces herself on one hand, reaching up with the other to grasp at his nose, spit covered fingers digging in a little harder than he’d like but he knows she doesn’t mean it. Huffing a little makes her laugh and he takes the chance to lick at her fingers, enjoying when she giggles and shuffles closer, parking herself down on her rear before him. She takes the time to reach for him again, grabbing at his fur, tangling her fingers in and tugging. He doesn’t growl, he doesn’t snap, he just shakes himself free and licks at her fingers again.

Judith seems to enjoy just being near him, so he takes the moment to inch closer, laying his head over her chubby little legs and letting her flop over his head. She squeals happily, rubbing her face over his short fur on his head and he can feel the drool matting it as she giggles above him. Her fingers pick and pull over his cheek fur before moving to grab at his ear with a chubby fist, tugging and pulling on it. Daryl hears when Lori gives a small hum of worry over his reaction but he doesn’t mind, not when the baby smelt of happiness and contentment as she lay on his head and explored his ears as they flicked back and forth.

He knows it’s not Lori’s fault that she worries, he knows it’s not Judith’s fault that she’s a little rougher than he likes but he would never ever hurt the pup. Even if he was proud to be a wolf and wasn’t pleased with the photos that Shane snaps of him being drooled on by the pup. 


	8. Chapter 8

The evening light is fading fast, winter is falling upon them quicker everyday and Daryl can’t help but enjoy every second of it. Sure prey was getting scarcer, the days were getting colder, but winter was the time of the wolf, a time when the moon was out longer and longer, and he couldn’t deny the pull that had inside of him.

Sitting at the window he watches the sky darken through the trees, the world turning to darkness as the night falls and he can feel the singing through his veins as the moon finally peeks her face out from behind the branches to smile down on him. Glancing over his shoulder he finds that as usual Merle hasn’t shifted from their bed, still snoring away and dead to the world. Scoffing a little he slips from the windowsill, padding across the stained floorboards of their run down home in bare feet over to where his brother lay. There will be no hunt tonight, they fed yesterday and with prey becoming scarcer it meant they had to go longer without food to make up for it. He could cope just fine, hunger was nothing to him anymore, but just because there was no hunt, didn’t mean there was nothing to do.

He’s still a pup, barely seven years old and annoyingly still small for his age. Merle is practically fully grown in comparison, eighteen and with his fur filled out when his shifts now, fangs grown in and a real threat to everything he sees. Daryl hopes that one day he’ll be the same, but it’s not happening fast enough for his liking. Getting onto their shared bed he’s not careful as he begins climbing over Merle, working his way up until he’s sprawled on his big brother’s shoulders and whining into his ear for him to wake up.

Of course Merle swats at him at first, growling a little but Daryl knows he doesn’t really mean it. Teeth are bared but he continues prodding at the back of his head, tugging at the collar of Merle’s shirt with his teeth and practically begging for him to wake up. Merle swipes at him, knocking him to the mattress with one blow before leaning over him with a growl, Daryl can’t help but giggle a little when Merle snaps at him before moving to nuzzle beneath his chin. They greet each other warmly, rubbing their faces together before Merle moves to slump on his side, wrapping his arms about him and trying to keep him still as he grooms him.

Daryl hates being groomed, but he hates when Merle gets pissed at him for wriggling more, so he stays as still as he can, holding on to his brother’s shirt and letting him nuzzle at his hair and lick over his neck until he’s scented properly enough. As soon as he’s clean enough he squirms out of Merle’s grip, grabbing his brother’s hand and trying to tug him to his feet with a whine.

They don’t always need to talk to communicate, it’s the wolf way of life to speak through other means, ways that humans couldn’t possibly understand. Body language means more to them than words, and it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Merle to understand that he’s full of energy tonight. Merle doesn’t grumble today though, instead he’s grinning, fangs pressed together in a smile and he even lets Daryl grabs onto his hand as they leave their house to start walking through their territory.

Between them there is silence for a while, both of them barefoot and just enjoying the freshness and safety of the woodland surrounding them. Above them the moon shines brightly as they reach the lake, Daryl climbing atop a rock to stare down into the water below, smiling down to the reflection of the moon that watches him back. Turning to watch his brother as he drinks his fill, Daryl grins as he flicks ripples into the water, watching as the moon’s reflection dances with each movement.

“Tell me the story again Merle.” He begs, sprawled on the rock, fidgeting a little as he prays for Merle to agree.

His brother huffs, walking out from the water to go over to him, leaning on the rock and shaking the droplets of water free from his chin. “Again?” Merle huffs, but he’s still smiling, nowhere near angry and Daryl reaches up to tug on his shirt again with a smile as he begs. “Daryl you’ve heard it a thousand times already.” His brother tells him, raking his fingers through his slowly growing hair and making him growl in annoyance.

Shrugging a little he doesn’t care that he’s heard it a thousand times already, he knows Merle will give in today and he fully intends to take advantage if it. Jumping up he latches his arms around Merle’s neck, hanging on when Merle moves and wrapping his legs around his waist to hang on. “Please? Just one more time Merle?”

Merle grumbles, but there’s no anger in it at all, it’s more just so he can’t be seen to give in so easily. Daryl squeaks happily when Merle helps him move around into a piggyback, hanging on around his neck, pressing against his back as Merle continues padding through their territory. “Alright, get yourself comfortable then pup and I’ll tell you the tale of Lady Luna: the wolf mother.” His brother begins and Daryl can’t help the happiness that flows through him when his brother begins to tell the story.

“Long ago, back when the earth was young, the wolf mother roamed the earth with her children. She was daunting in size, fur thick as the snowfall, legs as wide as tree trunks and a tail that could cover the sky with a flick. The wolf mother protected her children throughout the land, ensuring they learnt the ways of the wolf, moving as one family, one pack, hunting down prey and feasting on those weaker than themselves.

Then one day, the humans were created, two-legged and inventive, clever and sneaky, with weapons and a thirst for destruction. The wolf mother tried to protect her own, but her pack had grown so large that some of her children were killed by the humans. They didn’t hunt to feed, but for sport, for fur and to prove themselves to others. The wolf mother grew sad, crying to the night sky for answers, her tears falling to the earth and lodging into the ground as seeds.

Wolf mother knew she would not be able to save her children if they were to stay as they were, so she spoke to the Lord of the Sun and made a deal with him. She sacrificed herself to be set aflame to give her children the ability to shift, changing their skin from feral to human, allowing them to blend in, to hide in plain sight and vex the humans safely. But every night, the wolves would mourn for their mother, howling, crying, their tears joining hers as seeds in the ground, their mourning filling the air until it was deafening.

The Lord of the Sun took pity on the wolves and the loss of their mother, he plucked her spirit from the after world and moulded her a new form, far more vast than before, shining bright, everlasting and allowed her to remain in the sky at night, to watch over her children forevermore. The wolf mother took her place in the night sky as the moon, titled as the Lady Luna, ever allowed to watch over her children and see as they vexed humankind for evermore. And each night when she rises to watch them, her tears and the tears of the first wolves rise from the ground as moon flowers, following her beauty across the night sky as her children, and their children’s children sing to her in thanks for her sacrifice.”

Merle’s voice tails off, leaving Daryl smiling like a fool into his brother’s shoulder as he remains hanging on around his neck. “I like that story Merle.” He murmurs, looking up to see the moon watching over them both from the night sky.

“It ain’t nothing but a pup’s tale Daryl.” His brother scoffs, shrugging a little and jolting Daryl’s entire body with the movement. “You know that. Ain’t a lick of truth in it at all.” Merle shakes his head, joining him in looking up at the moon but despite his words Daryl knows his brother still likes the story.

Running his fingers through Merle’s short hair he sighs a little, feeling the moonbeams on his skin and the way it makes the wolf inside of him want to howl and run. “I know, but it’s still a nice story. And if it is true, then maybe mama is up there with the wolf mother, watching us with her?” He asks, able to feel the way Merle tenses a little beneath him, not angry but talking about their mama always makes Merle tense and on edge. Daryl pets at his brother’s head, trying to soothe him as best he can.

“Maybe.” Merle mutters and Daryl decides not to talk about mama for a while.

The moon is full, watching over them both and he swears even if it is a pup’s tale, he can feel them watching from above. “Merle?”

“Mhm?” His brother stretches a little, and Daryl knows he’s feeling the need to shift as much as he is.

Still clinging on around his neck, he nuzzles at the back on his brother’s head, licking there a little in excitement as he feels his brother giving in. “Can we sing tonight?” He asks and though Merle doesn’t reply with words, he can feel the instant his brother’s body begins to shift beneath him. Copying the motions he can’t help but whine happily when they’re both feral, Merle a fully grown wolf, grey in colour, painted deep and dark, dangerous in the dead of the night. He’s still only small, a pup, small enough to remain in place on Merle’s back, tail wagging against his brother’s spine as Merle begins walking, paws in the dirt and moon overhead.

Above them shines the moon, and Daryl can’t help but brace himself against Merle’s back, sitting up, pointing his nose to the heavens, stretching out his throat and howling as loud as he can to the wolf mother. Sometimes if he listens hard enough, he swears he can hear a howling in return.


	9. Chapter 9

For a dangerous beast that humans were warned about, Daryl really could be quite a wimp when it came to some things. Halloween was one of those things. Shane had seen his mate take on every kind of criminal, he’d seen him take a bullet for his pack, fight down a whole gang of drug runners and still come out on top. But it seems when it came to masks, costumes and kids running about and eating candy, Daryl became nothing more than an anxious puppy.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He tells him for the fifth time, poking at Daryl’s side lightly. His mate has currently taken up camp on the Grimes’ family couch, curled on one end and not looking to be moving anytime soon.

Despite still being in human form Daryl growls in the back of his throat, hunching away from him a little. “Won’t.” He snarls, glaring out the window as more children run past, laughing in joy at the night of fun ahead of them. It seems the joy isn’t contagious and Daryl moves to chew on Stryker’s ear anxiously.

Moving closer Shane kneels before Daryl, knowing that sometimes getting down to the same level as him made him feel more in control of the situation even if he didn’t like it. “Yes it will and besides the kids really want you to come.” He tells him, stroking a hand down Daryl’s thigh to try and help calm him.

“Why?” His mate huffs, teeth still lodged into the toy squirrel’s ear and not looking to be letting go anytime soon. “You and Rick are already goin’ with ‘em, they don’t need me too.” Daryl points out and Shane moves to stroke over his hand, running his thumb back and forth over Daryl’s skin.

Shane knows that Daryl would never admit to being afraid of trick or treaters, but it’s clear in his view that anybody wearing a mask was on Daryl’s shit list. He knew Daryl didn’t understand the need to dress up at the best of times, so having children dress up as monsters and ghosts must be extremely confusing when the rest of the year children were scared if them. It was simply another part of human culture that Daryl didn’t understand and Shane didn’t want him to continue to be afraid of something that was meant to be fun.

“But Carl is really excited for you to come with us this year.” He points out, knowing that Daryl had a soft spot for the kids even if they weren’t his own. “And it’s Judith’s first Halloween, you don’t want to miss out on such an important occasion for your pack do you?” It’s a dirty tactic to bring up the pack, but he really wants Daryl to come along tonight and not spend the evening whining to himself in Rick’s living room.

Daryl chews on Stryker a little more, whining in the back of his throat and fidgeting before he finally moves close enough to nuzzle at Shane’s neck in apology for his behaviour. There’s a small lick to his pulse point, Stryker is dropped onto his lap and Shane doesn’t pull back when Daryl ends up dropping to the floor alongside him and burying closer to his heat. Sometimes it was easier for Daryl to communicate through body language rather than words and Shane wasn’t going to force him to try and express his fears when Daryl so often claimed to have none.

Finger combing through his mate’s hair he lets him remain in his lap for a few moments, giving Daryl the time to ease himself away from being anxious and able to focus on him a bit better. “Besides, I want my mate there with me while I’m out there surrounded by scary monsters. I need my big bad werewolf to protect me.” He teases, cupping Daryl’s chin to force him to meet his eyes. Daryl gives a small huff of a laugh but doesn’t pull away when Shane leans in to kiss him and he takes that to be a good sign. “You gonna shift?”

His mate nods immediately, his fingers fidgeting over the bedraggled fur of Stryker and petting over his toy. It’s not unusual for Daryl to revert to his more feral form when he’s feeling on edge, the added weapons of his teeth, claws and bulk giving him more protection from the things he deems a threat. When they’d first began living together Daryl had spent the majority of the time in feral form, wary of Shane and humans in general. He’d gotten better with time, but there were still moments like this where Shane has to reassure him that he understands the need.

“Carl will like that. He’s been boasting to his friends at school that he’s going to be trick or treating with a real werewolf this year.” He encourages, petting behind Daryl’s ears and enjoying the soft rumble of a growl he gets in return. His mate is certainly different from any other person he’s ever met, but he wouldn’t change a thing about him. Patting at Daryl’s side he finally stands from the floor, brushing off his knees as the sounds of laughter come from upstairs. “Come on then, we’ll be heading off soon.”

He’s seen Daryl shift before, but it never fails to amaze him. Skin and bones shift, the human form he’s come to know as well as his own becomes feral, dropping to four paws and with a tail extending into a light wag. It sounds painful, but Daryl never seems to need to recover afterwards. Daryl shakes himself when he’s shifted, fur settling into place over him as he pads over to Shane, ears pricked forwards at the sound of the Grimes family heading downstairs.

The kid is clearly already excited, face painted green with fake bolts stuck on his neck and stitches painted on his forehead and cheeks. Shane can’t help but chuckle when Daryl slinks behind his legs, whining lightly as Carl approaches and pressing his muzzle to the back of Shane’s knee.

“Daryl it’s just me. I’m Frankenstein! Isn’t it cool?” Carl tells him, moving close enough to crouch beside Daryl and his hiding place, holding out a hand for Daryl to sniff and smiling when the wolf licks at his palm. “Mom did the stitches with her makeup but it’s alright for me to wear it on Halloween because it makes my costume better.” The kid explains and Shane can’t help but smile at him justifying makeup to a wolf who was scared of masks.

“Very cool Carl.” Leaning down he runs his fingers through the fur at Daryl’s scruff, helping to keep him calm and let him know that Carl really was no different just because he was currently painted green. “Daryl thinks so too, he’s just eager to get started and go get us all some candy.” He tells the kid, allowing Daryl to press against his side a little more.

Rick is grinning to them already, shoving his keys in his pocket and kissing Lori’s cheek lightly as he takes Judith into his arms. “Well he’s going to have to get in line, I think Judith might win the award for most ferocious werewolf this year.” He tells them and when Shane turns to looks he can’t help but coo over the sight of the baby.

“Oh my God she’s more adorable than usual.” He admits, moving closer to stroke over her cheek. Judith babbles happily, completely unaware of what’s going on and just happy to be the centre of attention. She’s bundled up in a onesie, grey in colour and extra fluffy, hood over her head with pointed ears sewn to the top and a tail hanging from her rear. “Look Daryl, your favourite pup is a real pup tonight. What do you think? Isn’t she cute?” He chuckles, nudging for Daryl to pay attention.

Daryl huffs a little at being distracted from his exploration of the taste of a green Carl, but does move to look at the baby. With a bark of interest his tail begins wagging lightly and Shane moves to brace him when Daryl jumps up to try and balance on his hind legs. “Easy bud.” He hums to him, bracing Daryl’s weight and helping him stay at the same height ,enough to sniff at the baby.

“It was Lori’s idea.” Rick explains, letting Judith babble and swat at Daryl’s muzzle when he licks at her face. “She figured since we’re pack it was only right for Judith to spend her first Halloween as a werepup.” Daryl barks in agreement, his tail now wagging fully and Shane knows he’s not worrying even a little bit when he goes to lick at Lori’s hands in a gesture of pleasure.

“I think I know someone who’s going to be getting a lot of candy tonight.” Shane smiles, grabbing his phone from his pocket and dragging up the camera as Daryl begins circling around Rick, interest clearly peaked at the sudden arrival of a more wolf looking pup. “I need a picture of this. Daryl sit with Judith a minute, I need a picture of our big bad wolf with the cutest werepup in the world.” Rick sets Judith to sit on the floor, helping her sit up with the ears on her hood pricked into triangles. Daryl yips loudly in excitement, tail wagging high in the air as he laps at the baby’s cheeks, nuzzling her gently and allowing her to grab at his fur in big fistfuls. It must hurt, but Daryl is good with the baby, and clearly far too excited to have a wolf pup to look after. “Smile you two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from a prompt I received on tumblr about wereDaryl trying to cope with halloween.


	10. AU of an AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this AU of the Lycan unit AU verse, what if Shane and Rick had found Daryl when he was injured as a pup?

Shane saves wolf pup Daryl

The call had come in around midnight. A couple of hikers had caught sight of some poachers out in the forest on the edge of King’s County and called it in, doing their duty in saving mother nature or some shit. Really as far as he was concerned he and Rick would have to take a stroll in to the woods, tell some hunters to keep it within season and then grab themselves a late night drive thru meal on the way back to the station. Easy as pie.

Except when they get to the forest and begin tracing through the well worn trails, they find something a little more worth their while. It’s definitely a camp, whoever had been out here had been planning on staying for a while, but the tents are empty, the fire is nothing but embers and they’d clearly left in a hurry.

“Must have caught wind of us comin’.” Shane scoffs, moving to kick more dirt over the smouldering fire and using his flashlight to light up the area. The ground is disturbed, there’s a couple of tents still left open but everything that would give them a link to the poachers was gone. “Seems they left in a hurry.”

Rick nods alongside him, scanning the area before nudging at his side to get his attention. “Yeah, so much of a hurry they left their dog.” His friend points out, moving over to the edge of the camp where there’s a chain wrapped about a tree.

Shane follows of course, hand on his holster and fully aware of just how dangerous dogs could be. Drawing in closer they peer through the darkness, and Shane is surprised to hear whines and whimpers instead of the growls he was expecting. Tied at the base of the tree is a small dog, quivering and curled in on itself as it whimpers, looking bedraggled and rather pitiful. In fact he’s not so sure it’s a dog at all, if anything it’s a puppy but the thing doesn’t look so good.

The pup whines when they draw nearer, backing up over itself and pressing back against the tree it’s chained to. From where they draw nearer Shane can see it’s wounded, blood spattered on the ground around it, and the thing limps a little as it backs away from them. It yips and growls, but the noises are so small, so fragile that they’re anything but intimidating.

“Guess we should call animal control.” Rick sighs, already reaching for his radio as Shane crouches before the dog. Shining his flashlight at the animal, it’s only then that Shane can see the claws, the shape of its muzzle, the coarse fur and how afraid it seems of humans.

“Wait.” He tells his partner, holding out a hand behind him and he can hear as Rick pauses in his actions. “Rick, I don’t think this is their dog.” He’s not ever seen it before but he’s heard about it, the use of animal young for bait, wounding them to draw in the more valuable parents.

His partner moves closer, crouching beside him and observing the young animal’s behaviour towards them. There’s no barking, but growling instead, snarls and the snapping of too young teeth towards them. “Well shit.” Rick mutters, shuffling a little as everything falls into place. “Guess they were poaching for something more valuable than deer.”

“No wonder they ran off, must know how much jail time poaching werewolves is worth.” Shane agrees, rubbing at the back of his neck as the pup whines before them, lying in a puddle of its own blood and watching them warily. “Some people are animals Rick I tell you that.”

“Ain’t goin’ to disagree with you there. Disgusting.” Rick agrees, standing with a bit of a sigh and buckling his gun back into place. “Well there’s nothing more we can do here Shane, better go write a report.”

That shocks him a little bit. If anything Rick was the more caring of the two of them, the one that kids went to if they were lost, the one that had pictures of their wife and son in their car. Yet his partner seemed more than willing to leave this injured animal where it was. “Rick…Rick we can’t just leave him out here.” He protests, standing up and getting a whimper from the pup.

“Shane don’t be stupid. It’s a werewolf, you know the rules. Humans aren’t allowed to interfere with werewolves, you touch it and they’ll reject it or some shit.” He can see that Rick is panicking, there’s worry in his eyes and Shane hates that Rick is such a stickler for rules and regulations.

Scoffing a little he watches the poor thing, it’s bleeding still, looking weak and not at all like a dangerous creature. “That’s an old wives tale.” He points out, not believing it for a second. “Besides you want me to leave it chained up like that? Rick the thing is bleeding, probably wouldn’t even make it through the night like this.” He knows it wouldn’t, it already seems to be flagging where it is.

The poor thing is watching them warily, claws digging into the dirt as it keeps growling low in its throat. Maybe it is a werewolf, maybe they’ve been warned against going near them, but it was also so young, and hurt. Shane knows he can’t possibly let it suffer for much longer.

“Well what are you planning to do Shane?” Rick asks him, sounding so pissed off that they’re not already heading home. “You can’t just take it home like you would a stray dog.” But dammit, he was going to. Removing his jacket Shane ignores Rick and holds it out like a shield as he approaches the animal, ignoring the calls from his partner behind him. “Shane? Shane what the hell are you doing? Shane don’t!”

It’s too late and though the pup is whining and whimpering, he manages to drop his jacket over it. Moving quickly he bundles it up, wrapping it in the jacket and pinning its legs easily. Though he’s still a little wary of the teeth being bared in his direction, he knows that really they’re too weak to do much damage. The were pup is crying loudly in his arms and no matter how much he tries to hush it as he loosens and removes the chain from around its neck, the thing continues to squirm in terror.

“Just for the night Rick.” He tries to explain, hoping that the pup would listen and understand as well. “I’ll clean him up, feed him, give him some water and let him sleep somewhere warm and safe.” The pup howls lightly, struggling in his grip and before long Shane has his arms wrapped tightly around the bundle to try and stop it from escaping. It doesn’t take long before the wolf pup’s struggling stops, the wounds and exhaustion taking over it until he’s only limp and whining in Shane’s arms. “Then in the morning we can take him to Hershel to get him patched up and then bring him back out here and release him. No one has to know.” He points out and Rick is looking so damned pissed at him right now.

“Shane you idiot, it’s a werewolf!” If he didn’t know his friend any better he’d say that Rick was debating leaving his ass and driving off right now. Fortunately he knows that Rick would never do such a thing to him.

“Just a baby werewolf.” He wheedles, moving closer to his partner with the wolf pup in his arms, the poor thing is shaking a little, most likely scared and in shock. There was no way that Rick was going to be able to say no. ”What’s it going to do? Eat me?” He points out and the poor pup whines lightly, and he can see his partner can see that it’s really not a threat. “Rick if we leave him then he’ll die, you want that on your conscious when you know we could help him?”

It doesn’t even take a few seconds for Rick to sigh loudly, rolling his eyes and nodding for Shane to follow him to the car. “This is on you Shane, we get caught and it’s all on you.”

Shane can’t help but move to the car with a grin, rocking the pup lightly and hushing it when it whimpers again. “Deal. Now you drive and I’ll hold him.”

It’s not how he’d thought he would be spending his night, saving and caring for an injured werewolf pup, but he couldn’t just leave the poor thing to suffer. All it would take was one night, just one night of good food, some water, somewhere safe and warm to get it through the stress and then he’d never see the pup again. After all, how much work could one wolf pup be?


	11. Chapter 11

It itches, it’s tight and makes him want to bite at the too small buttons and get himself free. The collar is pinching at his neck, his scruff feels ruffled, there at little cuffs on his wrists that feel stupid and the worst thing is the damned tie. Shane had brought him a clip on sure, so it wasn’t choking as much as normal ones would, but it’s distracting and ridiculous. The tie flaps about, it swings when he shakes his head back and forth, but he can’t catch it on his mouth, no matter how hard it tries. So he tries again, swinging once more, getting the momentum up and trying to grab at it, feeling the fabric slip through his teeth and leaving him biting at nothing but air.

Growling to himself a little he is jolted from his little game as Shane’s hand comes to press against his lower back, stroking lightly and getting his attention. “Daryl, we’re in public remember?” Shane tells him with a smile, but it’s not a real smile, it’s the kind of fake smile he put on when he’s trying not to yell. Grumbling to himself Daryl slumps in his seat, patting the tie to lie down against his chest as he waits for their meal to arrive.

He doesn’t understand human meals very well. The restaurant is fancy, requires shirts, ties and black pants with the folds ironed in. Shane even made him where plain boring underwear beneath it all and shiny shoes that mean he can’t run fast enough if he needs to. It makes him feel uncomfortable, and so do the wait staff that hover around, asking questions about wine, putting out a heck of a lot of silverware for one person and giving him the stink eye when he shakes his head to get his hair out of his eyes.

But he’s trying, for Shane. There had been talks of other police forces taking up a Lycan Unit and somehow they’d become the spokespeople for it. So there had been meetings, and talks, and phone calls and paperwork but for the most part he’s been allowed to skip out of it. But he’d been dragged in to this meeting, this dinner to talk about what other units needed to consider before making the changes for it, what they didn’t know about working with werewolves. Shane had told him he’s an integral part of it all and had to be here, so here he was, in a suit, in a tie and trying to understand why humans went through this whole dinner charade.

They’re joined by their own Sheriff, as well as a couple from other stations across the state and despite them all being Georgia born and bred, they’re enjoying this fancy pants restaurant and seem to know what to do. Meanwhile Daryl’s wondering why in Lady Luna’s name he’s got three types of fork. But he sits in the chair, he smiles when he has to and nods in answer when Shane prompts him to. It’s going well, he thinks. He hopes.

When food arrives Daryl has to admit it smells damned good, Shane had ordered for him and he’s pleased to see a huge bloody steak on his plate, all the sides and additions to the side and leaving it untainted. Leaning down he sniffs at it, enjoying the scent of death and the lack of burn on it, humans were foolish when they cooked their meat, it was far better like this. Ducking his head he goes to take a bite, feeling the tiny fangs that linger even in his human form pierce the flesh easily, but before he can begin tearing into the steak, Shane is nudging him with a hiss.

“Daryl no!”

Dropping the steak back to his plate he cocks his head to the side, wondering why Shane was stopping him from eating his dinner. There’s a look of horror on his human’s face, Daryl can see when he glances to their company at the table and when he notices their reactions to his way of eating, he remembers how picky humans can be about manners. Feeling ashamed he sits back, remembering that he was doing this for Shane as he snatches up the steak knife and fork. It feels awkward and wrong to cut the steak up, to ruin such a perfectly good meal by butchering it into bite sized pieces, but he tries. It still tastes good at least, the blood staining his tongue wonderfully and giving him the flavour of death and the thrill of a successful hunt behind it.

“Must’ve been a good hunt to bring down a cow.” Daryl points out with a shrug, wolfing down the meat eagerly and ignoring the other food on his plate. “One time me and my brother were bringing down a huge buck, got an antler to the ribs, almost pierced me, but then Merle ripped out it’s throat, it made the funniest noise as it choked on it’s own blood, kinda like a gurgle sort of sound.” He snorts out a laugh, remembering the way it had taken a while to finally stop twitching as they’d already begun ripping out its intestines.

There’s a hand placed on the small of his back, Shane leans in to his side again and Daryl looks up to find all the humans looking at him a little uneasily. Swallowing his mouthful he ducks his head, lets his hair fall in front of his eyes and hide him from their looks as he leans in to Shane. “Daryl…”

“I said too much didn’t I?”

“Yeah bud. Not appropriate dinner conversation.”

Whining a little in the back of his throat, he doesn’t feel hungry for anymore food. He was screwing this up big time and right now his mate looks pretty sick of having to apologise for his behaviour. Nudging at Shane’s face he rubs their cheeks together in apology, licking at the corner of his lips in a small kiss, smearing some of the blood from the steak to his lips accidentally. “I’m tryin’, honest.” He apologises, but this is too hard for him. Humans didn’t work the same way and with the moon almost full in the sky he’s jittery enough already.

Daryl can feel the moon pulse through his blood, it makes him itch under his skin in a way he can’t scratch and now being forced into this constricting shirt and tie and having to sit through this stupid dinner and everything. It makes him want to snarl a little. Already he can feel his fangs against his lip as he grits his teeth, trying to keep it under control, but it’s difficult and Shane’s hand strokes firmly over his lower back, giving him some extra strength.

“I know you are bud.” Shane nods, reaching up to rub at the hair behind his ears and his mate knows that it always calms Daryl down. Growling a little in pleasure, Daryl rests his chin on Shane’s shoulder, letting his leg jiggle beneath the table, losing himself in Shane’s scent to steady himself. “You know what, I think we’ve been polite enough, don’t you?”

Honestly he wants to agree, but he knows this is important and so he whines instead, keeping himself low, pressed against Shane and showing his submissiveness to his mate’s choice. The humans across from them are watching curiously, it makes Daryl growl a little protectively, reaching out to snare his fingers in Shane’s shirt and keep him safe. But they are no threat, not really, even if his instinct is flaring beneath the surface. Still it doesn’t hurt to rub his face at Shane’s neck to scent mark him a little deeper.

“You guys have everything you need for the moment right?” Shane asks them, there is a small conversation, a little laugh but it’s happy, casual and there doesn’t seem to be any malice behind it. There is a mention of them not staying for dessert and Daryl wants to tell them he could catch a squirrel for them easily enough. But he bites his lip and licks beneath Shane’s ear instead. “Because I don’t think this dinner is going to tell you anything more you need to know, you’ve got more than enough information to go on.”

There is more chuckling, more sipping of wine and the admittance that the three of them can carry on the meeting without them both. Daryl whines a little, more focussed on the potential of getting out of here than playing to the worries of the humans they’re with. Nipping gently at Shane’s ear, he wants his attention, and his mate reaches up to run his fingers through his hair to soothe him again. But then Shane is moving, standing up and shaking hands, leaving Daryl to follow suit, even if he doesn’t do hand shaking. Touch was something for pack, and these people were not pack. Still he ducks his head in a nod to be polite.

Then they’re leaving, walking towards the door and he’s eager to move, already grabbing the tie and tugging it off, fangs catching on the buttons of the wrist cuffs and biting them off, spitting them to the floor as they make their way outside. As soon as the moonbeams hit his skin he feels better, feels like he can breathe again and Shane is there, reaching out to undo the button beneath his chin and smile to him lightly.

“Go ahead and shift, I’m proud of you for lasting that long.” Shane tells him, fingers in his hair before his hands are held out, taking the shirt that Daryl is stripping off and folding it over his arm as Daryl begins shifting. He’s soon alive again, all paws, fur, fangs and wolf blood, proud and real on the streets of the human world. This is him, this is real and this is a better answer to all those questions than anything he could have said. “Was twice as long as I expected.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> same chapter from sharyl oneshots, needed it here too.


End file.
